The ability to offer presence.
When I show up ALL of me shows up.
Standing in Loving Strength.
To witness the beauty of you.

I don't defend people's character
I defend them as a human beings
Having their own experiences
And their own believings

All the advice we give and people we try to change all simply won't matter. People will do exactly what they want to do the moment you are not around. If something is truly important you only ever really need to say it once. Everything else is energy you could be spending doing what you want whatever that is. So just accept that now. Accept that people will do what they want to do and stop trying to change that. Choose you instead
I have watched the generations above me as their parents have passed and it's always sad but also a fresh breath because now they can be themselves when they quite frankly could have been all along. All the energy invested into trying to find validation. It's a white knuckled love. We grip things so tight forgetting that we have our own hearts to tend to.
Everybody lives until the moment they are dead. And once you are dead life continues on just as it always has so choose love daily. Choose you.

I am strong enough to suffer

For every action there is a equal and opposite reaction. For one side to exist at all there must be two. The same holds true for words. Both their physical and metaphysical applications. In the above statement I am using the word suffer in it's opposite meaning of allow.

A unhealthy association of feeling transmuted to a healthy association of feeling. By being able to see it's equal yet opposite end I have changed the action itself. Words are not flat though neither are they robust but in truth as nuanced as we are with wrong associations for desired actions because they come FROM us. A self fulfilling circle. They have only the meanings WE attach to them.

It is also an action of love. To allow.
To understand our emotions and feelings are ours alone and therefore we are individually responsible for how we perceive and use them. To knowingly choose.

I think women are more naturally inclined to understand the concept of healthy suffering. Sometimes it could be described as Tough Love. It's tough love because of the heart. Suffering is like Allowing through the heart.

I am not attaching the emotional feelings of suffering that make you wince, roll your eyes, guffaw or any other such reaction to your understanding of it's emotional state to you. When I think of the word suffering I feel the feeling of allowing. Of choosing love.

LISTEN
To see with your ears

GENTLE
Soft as a moonbeams radiance

FEAR
A giant ******* neon sign lighting the fastest path to growth (which incidentally is an inclined slip-n-side)

There is a difference between
minimalism and simplicity.

To live minimally is an action.
To live simply is an art

Your soul rubbing against mine is like
Socked feet sliding on carpet.
Transferring electrons
Sparking and humming an electric duet.

Ambiance accentuer
Dalliance delicous  
Voyueristic ventures
Eyeing expeditious
Natural nutate
Tantalizing tides
Urges undulate
Rejuvenating rise
Intoxicating incantation with
Numinous notations
Gravitation gyration and
Scintillescent sensations

At the hint of your touch my eyes begin to slide closed in slow motion as my body inhales inclining anticipation. My flesh poised for ignition. Exposed. Your glide creates electric waves of sensation, rippling through me dimensionally. Expanding oxygenless rapture where every cell comes to full attentioned life and every single atom drinks in boundless pleasure. Delighted by the tendrils of your touch my entire being dances in the earthy ***** thrum that makes me want to dig my toes into dirt and root down deep to enjoy the fullness of you.

Your fingerprints are my reward
Like a pirates treasured hoard
Trophies I yearn to earn
Hand and skin do adjourn
White areas unexplored

FRECKLES
Sun kissed constellations

LANGUID
The bottom of a sigh

DRAMASTICALLY
Seriously Dramatic. Huge, with flare.
How teenagers feel everything

Let life enthrall you
The wind caress you
The sun kiss you
The water cleanse you
The moon soothe you
The wild call you
The stars guide you
The fire warm you
Let all of it tempt and nourish you
Stop judging it and find a way to play
We are all just kids in big people's bodies

All of us are music.
Living breathing compositions.

Some are jazz. All bright colors and playful vibrancy mixed with a sultry sumptuous purr
.
Some are Blues. Deep down colors and aching longing mixed with a quiet wailing rumble.

Some are Rock. Primary colors and down home feel mixed with cruisin with the windows down and karaoke.

Some are Heavy metal. Reflective silvers, polished steels mixed with screaming wires and fierce feral growls.

Some are Alternative. Contrasting secondary colors and experimentation mixed with mystery box wonder and quizzical quirkiness.

Some are Classical. Black and white colors  of perfection mixed with full bodied timelessness.

Some are Pop. Vibrant pastel colors of youth and innocence mixed with bursting bubblegum bubbles and giddy dancy hope

Some are Showtunes. Lighted colors of exaggeration mixed with bravado and intensity

Some are Opera. Red hues of passion and heart mixed with pushing vocal limits and whole body overtures and ovations.

All of which run through the current of ‘soul’. Show yours. Feel yours. Sing yours. Whatever you do, do it with soul.

Skin suit personalities.
They are fun to wear
But they are not the totality
Of who we are.
We all have intangible parts to ourselves.
Life is a chance to play a part
In a skin suit dance.
If you do not like your role
Try directing instead of acting.

Life is so full of so many ‘suits’ to try on
And I do love to wear a wide variety
But my most preferred is naked.

Natural. Wild. Untamed.

Love goes exactly where it needs to go.
It is a current. And just like the weather, sometimes fickle.
It proceeds your journey as a path before you.

Life is so full of  ‘suits’ to try on
And I do like wearing a wide variety
But my most preferred is naked.

Natural. Wild. Untamed.

I like when it’s just noise and not chatter. Words are distracting because even though It’m not listening directly my mind clicks on in an area of my brain that I wish to let sleep sometimes. Which if you knew me you would understand how ironic that is.

I did not speak until I was three. My grandmother used to tell my mother to “enjoy it now. Once she starts talking she will never shut up.” She was spot on.

I used to talk so fast most would assume I was auctioning off cattle. The truth was I was auctioning off presence. Prattling away like a hen. I am now returning to my original state of verbal silence.

Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE words but I don’t think in words. I think in pictures of moving senses. I use words to try and describe the current of those senses when I step out of their embrace to shift into a worded mind. It’s exhausting sometimes and exuberant at others but always disengaging from where I prefer to be. That’s not to say I’m a recluse. I am decidedly not but I do like reclusiveness.

The trace of my words linger
Like the whisperiest whisper
And the faintiest hints
Of ghostly smoke tendrils
And dust particle tints

I’m sitting in the dark and the sound of the rain falling is just right and silence settles to whatever volume is current. And as you become increasingly aware it’s like all of the oxygen is ****** out of the world and yet you can still breathe.

The power in that grasp. Glimpse. Moment of ‘being’. An active moment of happening now. The current. And it is so titillating, mesmerizing, and transfixing that you suspend time to really see it. It presents itself in many different ways and oh how truly altering they are.

I love the ones with no talking. No words  anywhere for me to hear whether I want to or not. Just colors, sounds, textiles, smells. A unique constantly changing thing.

God I love these moments and I intend to go back but the need to express it overtook long enough to use words to write this. I am now disengaging.

She hums a ***** tune
From the shadows of the trees
Luring in the wildlife
To do with as she please
As they come in closer
She readies for the pounce
Scanning for the strongest
As her hunger mounts

Play me like a drum
A crimson red rhythm
of handprint notes
pulsing on my skin

Let the games begin!

She delves into your eyes
Inhaling as deeply and as slowly
As her tongue and teeth on her bottom lip
Her smile breaks like a fiery dawn
Intensely focused on igniting you with a single fingertip
Sliding up the topographical map of your spine
To the apex of your neck
Reveling raspberry flushed skin
Melts ice and time

Under wear
Under there
Hiding your
Derriere

I sit and I ponder
As my boat wanders
Across waters unknown
These moments not squandered
It is quite an honor
To see with eyes of my own

Fishing line sentences
Baited with words
Cast far out into the sea
Drifting and reeling
Ever so slowly
What they will bring to me

While the ticket is in my wallet
I have both won and not won the lottery

Your hands ever at the ready
Poised to dive in to my warm delicious center
Your fingers breach and I envelop you
The onslaught begins
You grab at me in fervor
Until your hands just wont do
I await the warm welcome of your mouth
As you bury your face in my core
Slurping me up as fast as you can
Until every last ounce of me is inside you
The buzzer sounds
You are this years winner
Of the pie eating contest

There are a great many things
To accomplish in a day
Without you there, sitting still
And getting in my way

You that little black dot
Among my nice clean white
Are constantly reminding me
That I am not pure bright

You are what is different
Amongst the sterile field
So your fault it must be
On this I will not yeild

Hobos, Slackers, Drunks
You! Are all the same
Always so quick to find
Someone else to blame

Off! Off! You Wretched Spot!
Off my field of white!
Here's a couple dollars bills
Now get thee out of sight!

Get Up! You ***!
You ruining the whole feel
Get Up! Go on, ***!
**** is getting real

Out of sight, Out of mind
Is what I always say
And now back to my grind
I have such a busy day!

I need to move on quickly
From this inconvienent stop
I'm already so behind
From cleaning up your slop

In joy and awe I sit
In stillness, completely free
But when you look
A *** is what you see

Your minds and movements
Like busy little bees
Buzz buzz buzzing
Believing you are free

Preferring to race in circles
Blurred flower Grand Prix
Round and round you go
Spinning endlessly

I am like that flower
An unfolding trustee
Toward the light of day
Easy as you please

Comfort in my roots
I am the one who sees
In the rushing wind I sway
Dancing on the breeze

You do your best not to look
To you I am unease
To me you are a river
Of busy little bees

Unaware of your breath
A wasting disease
Letting everything define you
To varying degrees

I need not move a mile
Stillness my skeleton key
I need not move a foot
I am everything that I need

She sits in a wooden chair in the study of her grandfathers master bedroom. Even at 19 her feet barely touch the emerald green carpet. She has always been small. Her growth halted at 12, reaching her final height by 7th grade. She curls her toes into the carpet. It feels soiled and stiff from dog *****. A testament to her grandpa not moving well enough to take the dog out. His room is the only room with a carpet because of this fact.

The house is quite. Everyone else went out to dinner, probably happier that she stayed home. Her defeated posture speaks volumes. She stares at little specks of dust dancing around on unseen currents but not really seeing anything. Her mind used to be her safe place but even that has turned against her.

"Why do you act like such a baby?" reverberates like a ripple through her. Words spoken at another time but still holding space within her, trapped in her cells. She sighs heavily. She knows the chorus is about to begin. Once it starts it builds on itself, trying to overtake her very essence.

"Why can't you be more like your sisters?" "We are all tired of seeing your sad face. If you can't smile and be happy then stay in your room." The momentum builds, the words begin to crescendo, joined by scoffs, eye rolls, and sighs that always make her feel like she is impossible to love.

With each sigh her stature shrinks, slowly pulling herself inward. Tears form and want to fall but she refuses. She has already cried too many. Crying is associated as weakness and for as sad as she is, she is just as determined. These two emotions she knows well. Over the last 7 years they have slowly coalesced into anger.

Anger and pain her constant companions. She is too young to understand why the anger has taken root and yet clings to it and wears it as a shield. It protects her but also does not allow the ghosts of the chorus out. She has often thought about suicide but her determined nature will not allow others to win.  And so she sits in a nesting doll of invisible cages that she feels but cannot see.

She is startled by voices. Her family returning, filling the house with chatter and laughter, and once again she disappears.

There are times when sadness is triggered.  A conduit of tears through a heart that understands. My tears are like prince rupert drops. I can cry them without breaking. Standing witness to the sadness and filtering through love.

I awake to a hand that's not mine. With each revolution my innocence buried deeper. My universe rips like a piece of paper until it's a storm of confetti secrets raining down on the grave of my hijacked childhood. Dug by the alcohol stained air whispering my name like a scratched record. I play dead.

As we grow, we expand and as we expand, we grow. Likewise our consciousness. Four years of expansion in a single night is dizzying. The force pinning me to an uncertain reality that feels softer, smoother. Spinning by in periphery and yet perfectly still dead center. Time stops and I watch. This moment contains all moments.

From the perspective of the tree we are but a quick blip in their time. A generation appearing as that of a fly. Around for a minuscule amount of time like the house fly to us.

The Lion

She eats the men lured to her lair and sends the bones to Hades. In the dark I pounce back and wrap my hands about her throat, white knuckled grasp until the last gasp of life leaves her like a candle blown out.  I skin her with her own claw. Her fur now mine.

The Hydra

Golden sword, face wrapped with cloth. A beast raised just for my demise. One immortal head among many, like a house of mirrors. Chop one head and two return. Seemed impossible until my blade covered in poisonous blood scorches the stumps of decapitation. Two new constellations branded in the sky as proof of my deeds.

The Hind

Faster than an arrow in flight, the sacred animal was just out of reach. I pursued on foot for over a year, through four different kingdoms. I trapped it while it slept allowing me to capture it without desecration. The King demanded to keep it. Slow kingly hands enabled it's freedom, once again bounding away.

The Boar

Commanded to catch the beast alive I sought advice from Centaurs. They told me how then got very drunk and attacked me. They can't handle their wine. I shot them with arrows covered in poison from the Hydra. The boar was easier. Drove him into thick snow and delivered him to the cowering King Eurystheus.

The Stables

King Augeas wanted to humiliate me and so tasked me with cleaning out his stables. Immortal animals make an enormous quantity of dung by the way.  They had not been cleaned for 30 years and housed 1,000 cattle so I re-routed the rivers Alpheus and Peneus to wash out the filth.  They cried party foul.

The Birds

Ares, the God of war had sacred man eating birds with beaks of bronze and metallic feathers that they could launch like darts at their victims. Did I forget to mention highly toxic dung? A simple rattle scared them to flight and I easily dispatched them with more arrows. Didn't even break a sweat.

The Bull

I was Beseeched by King Minos to sail to Crete and catch a bull of ill repute that has been causing havoc in the orchards. I snuk up behind the beast and throttled it with my hands, stopping before it was killed and then shipped it back to Tiryns to be sacrificed later to Athena.

The Mares

I have been sent to steal the mares Podargos, Lampon, Xanthos, and Deinos, who are raised on a very unnatural diet of human flesh, fed to them by their owner. They are madness itself. He pursued me, we fought, I won. After getting the mares corralled I fed them their owner which permanently calmed them.

The Belt

Admete wants the Queen of the Amazons belt. I have been ordered to retrieve it. Hera however had other plans, disguising herself and walking among the Amazons she began sowing seeds of distrust. One giant misunderstanding later left the Queen slain by my hand. Should never have happened, but I did get the belt. sigh

The Cattle

A golden chariot carried me to the cattle who were guarded by Geryon. He charged me carrying three shields, three spears, and wearing three helmets. My arrow pierced his forehead and bent his neck over to one side, like a poppy that spoils its delicate shapes, shedding its petals all at once. Cattle successfully retrieved.

The Apples

Caught shape shifting sea God to find the Garden. Agreed to hold the Heavens for Atlas while he got me the apples. He wouldn't take the heavens back so I asked him to temporarily relieve me to adjust my cloak. Atlas agreed and resumed holding up the heavens. I reneged, walked away with the apples.

Cerberus

Struck deal with Hades. I could take Cerberus to the surface if I didn't use any weapons. Used my hands. Eurystheus was terrified of him, begged me to take him back to the underworld offering to release me from any further labours. I am now free from the king. Think I'll ride with the Argonauts.

There once was a man
who collected rocks.
He was five-foot two
and his name was Brock.

One day out walking
while making his rounds
he noticed a rock
that weighed 60 lbs.

It was shaped like a fish
and quite a bit shiny
with one ruby eye
that wasn't so tiny.

He wanted it badly
so badly you see
he shouted quite loudly
and made this decree

“That rock is now mine
I'll carry it home
and place it just so
in my rocky biome.”

He was doing quite well
just after the start
but the longer he walked
put strain on his heart.

He needed to rest
so he sat for awhile
wondering if he'd
survive this strange trial.

He sat and he pondered
these fateful things
when suddenly he saw
something with wings

It circled above
releasing a scream
eyes honed on him
Oh! How they gleamed.

Before he could get up
the hawk swooped on by
and pecked poor Brock
right in the eye.

Brock dropped the rock
with a loud scream
then cursed the hawk
and its dastardly scheme

The hawk took the rock
and flew away fast
He had to act now
or the moment would pass.

Brock sprang to action
began hunting it down
running all over
the streets in this town.

Holding his eye
clutching his heart
he finally stopped
thinking the hawk was too smart

He was wrong
as he turned back around
and saw the rock
lying there on the ground

Brock ran over
to go pick it up
but at the last moment
It was crushed by a truck

He looked at the pieces
with a big frown
and three minutes later
he was also run down

Honesty is a very hard thing to look at
Most people think they will burn
In the intensity of the light it casts
I promise it’s a cleansing fire
A rebirth

You are my creation of sensation
The expanse of chance
Filled with tippy-toed steps
A freelance dance

You are my raw and my awe
Felt in my hips, seen on my lips
In every smile, soul style
From within, to all my tips

You are my chasm and my ‘gasm’
Immense and intense
Peaks blush like cheeks
In breathless suspense

You are my breath and my death
Ablaze in every gaze
Born anew in the prize of your eyes
Through every phase

You are my grip and my grit
Primal moans rattle bones
Running wild and beguiled
Across erogenous zones

You are my fire and desire
A ******* liberation
Exhaling and inhaling
Combined Resuscitation

We are enhancement and enchantment
Dispersed and immersed
For all to see, wild and free
Throughout the universe

What you see is only what you believe

When I trip
I feel like I’m falling
Up into the sky
When I leap
I feel like I’m stuck
Down in the ground

In every present
There is a future
In every future
There is a present

His name is Future
Her name is Present
She is a gift
He will always hold

I don’t know why you own guns
You won’t even **** a cockroach
Let alone a deer.